


Reach

by theirhappystory



Series: Quick Hands and Cold Blood [3]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Bratva (Arrow), Bratva Oliver Queen, F/M, Hacker Felicity Smoak
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2020-05-29 12:58:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19400794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theirhappystory/pseuds/theirhappystory





	Reach

**Oliver**

Contrary to what he told Felicity, Oliver finds himself back in Cambridge less than a month after their initial run in at  _ Black Hat _ . It’s not of his own free will, but that of Captain Alexei Leonov, current Brigadier of the brotherhood’s Starling City operation. After successfully intercepting the following Tombov shipment, thanks to Felicity’s aide, Oliver caught the eye of those who held significant weight with the Pakhan and the rest of the Bratva. Alexei was sending him to co-head the foundation of a brigade on the East Coast in reaction to the increasing Tambovskaya presence; his interruption of their past shipment only causing the rival gang to become more determined to extend their reach in the U.S. While this was a positive development in working towards the title of Captain, Oliver’s co-leader was a less than favorable companion.

“Since Alexei seems to believe that someone who majored in dropping out a college is a good fit for a position of power in this brotherhood, let me make it abundantly clear that I do not agree.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t agree with, Isabel.”

Isabel Rochev grew up in the Bratva’s Russian compound, traded to Pakhan Knyazev to repay a debt her father could not afford. She grew up in the ways of the brotherhood, but her lack of birthright was no secret. She was given all the responsibilities and expectations of an heir without any of the benefits, and it made her cold. Everything she did was calculated and carried out without emotion, aside from anger.

“Explain to me how visiting a club is going to get us the blueprints off of that computer,  _ postoronniy _ .”

_ Outsider _ .

Oliver’s jaw clenches tightly at the insult. He endured much ridicule due to his American origin when first entering the brotherhood two years ago. It was rare that anyone of descent other than Russian was initiated into the Bratva, and many viewed those who were as a poison to the brotherhood. Because of this, Oliver worked nearly ten times as hard to prove himself and earn the respect of his brothers. To hurl such an insult at him is a low blow, especially coming from Isabel. In the interest of remaining civil, however, he refrains from biting out a retort and instead lets silence answer her. If Isabel wasn’t so incessant about tracking his every move, Oliver would have gladly made this visit on his own.

Scanning the club, Oliver’s gaze immediately falls to the booths in the back. He studies the occupants of each one, eyebrows drawing together the further he gets down the line. Frustration and disappointment swirl together in his chest as he reaches the last one to find it empty. 

She’s not here.

“I am not going to ask again, Oliver. We have a job to do.”

This time he doesn’t hold himself back.

“And unlike you I’m actually working towards getting it done.”

The ice cold glare Isabel gives him could make the sun freeze over, but Oliver does not cower in the brunette’s wake. He simply squares his shoulders, fists clenched at his sides, and stares back. If they weren’t in public, it’s possible one of them would have made a move to attack. It wouldn’t be the first time their abhorrence for one another resulted in a loss of blood. It wouldn’t be the last.

“Oliver?”

The gentle but strong voice behind him has Oliver abandoning the stare down he and Isabel are engaged in and quickly pivoting on his feet to locate the source.

“Felicity. Hi.”

She’s standing a foot or so away from him, jet black hair pulled back into a ponytail, revealing an industrial piercing in the cartilage of her right ear that Oliver hadn’t noticed previously. Her makeup is not as heavy as it was last time he saw her, either, and he finds that he likes these subtle changes to her appearance. They soften her features, giving Oliver a less inhibited view of her naturally pretty face.

“What are you doing here?”

He opens his mouth to respond, but is cut off as Felicity barrels forward.

“Wow. That came out a little rude. I just wasn’t expecting to see you around here again, since you said you didn’t plan to be in Cambridge for very long. I didn’t mean it as in you’re not welcome around here. Because you are. Very welcome, actually.”

She cuts herself off after that, teeth worrying her bottom lip lightly. Oliver reaches out to settle a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m happy to see you, too.”

A small smile threatens to spread across his face as she grins up at him, until their exchange is intruded upon by the pointed clearing of a throat behind his back. With a reluctant sigh Oliver angles himself to face both Felicity and Isabel as he introduces them.

“Felicity, this is a business associate of mine, Isabel.”

He doesn’t bother giving Isabel an explanation for who Felicity is. He doesn’t owe her one. She’ll find out soon enough as is. As an added bonus, the use of Isabel’s real name is sure to piss her off.

“Nice to meet you.”

The younger girl offers a hand in greeting, one that Isabel simply sneers at before turning her sharp gaze to Oliver. Felicity retracts her hand quickly, shifting awkwardly on her feet at the rejection. A brief flash of anger streaks through Oliver at Isabel’s dismissal and Felicity’s apparent uncomfortability.

“Don’t tell me we came here so you could introduce me to your jailbait,  _ Oliver _ .”

She spits his name like a curse and Oliver is about to reply, but Felicity beats him to it.

“Whoa, no! No, that’s not happening here. At all. First of all, because I’m twenty. Second of all, like I said, so not happening. If Oliver brought you here I’m more than willing to bet it’s because you have a computer problem that requires skills you don’t have, but I do. So I would maybe think twice about the attitude if it’s something important.”

Oliver suppresses the urge to laugh, something he has found himself doing less and less lately. He then quickly steps in before Isabel’s claws can truly come out. 

“Felicity is an expert with computers. She helped me with the last… technical malfunction we had.”

“Genius, actually, and I did. It was a cakewalk, to be honest. Just your everyday, run of the mill hack job.”

Isabel’s stare can be described as skeptical at best, but Felicity seems to be for the most part unphased by it as she addresses Oliver.

“So what do you have for me this time?”

“How good are you at salvaging information off of damaged laptops?”

He watches as the younger girl’s eyes widen with glee, like a kid on Christmas morning who just walked downstairs to find the room piled high with presents. 

“Now we’re talking. This is like the eight days of Hanukkah all wrapped into one.”

Oliver arches an eyebrow at her questioningly.

“I’m Jewish.”

He makes a mental adjustment to the Christmas analogy.

“Anyway, let’s step into my metaphorical office.”

With a quick clap of her hands and a swish of her ponytail, Felicity guides him and Isabel towards the same booth he found her in three weeks ago. The others must know this is  _ her  _ space. Oliver slides in without preamble whereas Isabel takes a moment before lowering herself onto the leather cushion with clear disdain. He chooses to ignore his partner in favor of pulling the aforementioned laptop out of a beige messenger bag slung over his shoulder. His focus turns to the girl across the table as her eyebrows disappear into her hairline at the sight of the mutilated piece of technology.

“What did you do to the poor thing?!”

Felicity gingerly runs a hand over the bullet riddled surface of the computer, pointer finger circling a hole here and there.

“I spilled a latte on it.”

Isabel scoffs beside him but otherwise remains silent while Felicity stares at him with a deadpan expression.

“Really? Cause these look a lot like bullet holes.”

“The coffeeshop I was at wasn’t in the best part of town.”

“Uh huh… May I?”

Oliver gives an answering nod to her gesture, and Felicity brings the laptop closer for inspection. She picks it up, twisting it about to survey the damage. Seeming to decide upon something, she nods to herself, then places the computer back on the table before fishing her own out of her bag. Oliver observes her at work as she connects the two with various wires and begins to type. Beside him, Isabel becomes impatient and speaks up.

“Can you pull the information we need off that computer or is this a waste of our time?”

“I can do it, but it’s going to take some time. Recovering a crashed system doesn’t just happen with the flip of a switch. I might have to take the damaged one apart to fix some wiring.”

“We have a meeting.”

“At one in the morning?”

“It’s international.”

As entertaining as the sparring match between Felicity and Isabel is, because most people he has encountered in the Bratva wouldn’t dare cross the Ice Queen, Oliver decides to step in before things escalate any further.

“Isabel, why don’t you go and lead the meeting. I’ll stay here and wait for Felicity to get what we need.”

“That makes two meetings this week, Oliver. I thought you were serious about this project.”

Gritting his teeth, Oliver angles himself toward the brunette at his side and braces for the impending fight.

“I am.”

“Well then act like it,” growls Isabel. “We have work to do. It’s important.”

“So is this.”

They glare at each other, neither one of them willing to back down from an argument they’ve had more than once. In his peripheral, Oliver can see Felicity gauging the interaction, shifting slightly in her seat. Luckily, the tense silence passes as Isabel rises from her seat, cold composure slipping back into place.

“Fine. Stay here with your play thing. Anatoly will not be pleased to hear your reasoning for stepping out on a meeting with him.”

She leaves the two remaining occupants of the table with those words, no doubt planning the best way possible to ensure the Pakhan’s disapproval of his actions. Oliver releases a sigh of frustration and slouches over slightly in his seat. He’ll have to do damage control later, but it will be worth it once he gets the blueprints off that laptop. Or once Felicity does.


End file.
